Mirror Image
by Dr. Sipp
Summary: AU. Link is a simple traveller, trying to make a decent living to support him and his sister. Throw a feared, hated assasin that looks almost exactly like him in the mix, a nutty princess, and some twists... Old. Hiatus, possibly permanent, but I hope not
1. Dawn to Dusk

Disclaimer: If I had a million dollars, I'd buy me Zelda and co, but since I don't, I don't own the d00ds.

Author's ramblings: 

Sipp has not yet written a Zelda story. This news shames her greatly.   
She has recently purchased the Zelda packet, and is enjoying her beloved Ocarina of Time, though the Water Temple, aggravating as it is, still irritates her, though not as much as before.   
It is worth it, however, because she gets to see her beloved Dark Link.   
Sipp has an affinity for "Clone", "Shadow", "Dark copy" characters, as you can tell from her affection towards Metal Sonic and Metal/Robo Knuckles from Sonic the Hedgehog.  
She is unsure to whether it is Shadow Link or Dark Link, but the game said Dark Link, so she will go with that.   
So, there you are, a pathetically attempted Zelda epic by the doctor herself. I assure you it is nowhere near the quality of Split Infinity's, Lady Rose's, Arxane's, Alex Foster's, Metara's Hime no Argh's, or Phantwo's works, (Go worship those authors RIGHT NOW), but she sincerely hopes that the readers will enjoy the story.   
Sipp likes talking in third person.   
Sipp needs to stop before this note ends up longer than the story itself. 

  
Chain mail and armour rattled as he bowed lowly, unruly bangs nearly sweeping the statue.   
  
"It is only a matter of time now, Master."   
  
Red eyes gleamed hungrily as the figure stood up. The sun's rays cascaded off of his garments. 

He was adorned in armour of black and silver, an ebony sword clutched loosely in his hand. Wild blonde hair danced freely in the wind, as be bent down, daintily, and seized a bowl full of blood. 

With one, swift, jerky, motion, he directed himself towards the statue, halting only in front of a fountain. No water rested there, only blood. 

Tipping the bowl over. He watched, grinning maliciously, as the viscous red liquid trickled down the walls of the ornament, dripping onto the rest. 

  
"Soon," hissed the figure happily. 

  
He turned to leave, kicking aside the mangled, beheaded form of a maiden. 

  
**Mirror Image **

  
"Have the last piece," offered Link, holding out a slice of cold, dry bread. 

"I'm not hungry," returned the smaller figure, a little girl with bright green hair. 

As if intended, her stomach decided to growl loudly right then. 

He thrust the bread towards her. 

"What about you?" protested Saria, looking up at him with big, blue, innocent eyes. 

"I'm fine." 

"You've barely been eating lately." 

"You're young, you need the energy." 

"You're not my father. Eat it." 

He stood up, towering high above her. 

"I may not be your father, but I am your older brother, Saria, and I order you to eat it." 

She stood as well, glaring up at him, and folding her arms for effect, trying to make herself taller, and appear more menacing, but failing miserably at both. 

"You're also a moron. And I am ordering you to eat it before you starve to death and die." 

Link held his scowl for a moment, until his self-control gave way, and he lasped into laughter. 

"It's not funny." 

She folded her arms closer to her chest, and sulked. 

"Alright, alright," he held up his arms in defeat, "Half and half?" 

She brightened. 

"Okay!" 

The bread was split in two, and the siblings continued their walk, munching. 

Link sighed as he let Saria take the lead. She was getting thinner. 

She had been slender to begin with, but, not, she was bordering underweight. 

We need to get to a village, quickly," he thought. Though he had no idea how he was going to get food, he suspected he could try the pity of the villagers, and try to make a living in there. 

"Link, I'm tired…"  
  
"We can't stop here, Saria, we need to get to a village by night time." 

"I know."  
  
"I'll carry you if you want." 

She was getting weaker…   
He scooped her up in his arms, striding forwards. 

"I still don't understand why you left the Master Sword behind." 

His frame went rigid, and he tasted bile rise up in his throat. 

"I told you never to mention that… thing again."   
  
"You could have done sword tricks or something, to get money…" 

"Saria," said Link warningly.   
  
"Can you at least tell me why?"   
  
"No," replied Link flatly. 

The conversation ended there, and all that he heard was the crunch of twigs and grass underneath his boots 

"Look," cried Saria, stirring in his grip, and speaking for the first time since the topic of the sword, "A village!" 

Sure enough, ahead of them lay a town, bright with the flames of torches. Merry sounds rang through the air, it seemed as though there was some sort of festivity going on. 

She leapt down onto he ground, bounding towards the gateway, which was flanked by two guards. 

Link risked a glance upwards. The sun was setting, the sky darkening. 

They had to hurry. 

"Wait for me!" 

He ran after her. 

Saria was, of course, the first one to reach the entrance, and the guards smiled at her.   
  
"Hello, little miss. What can I for you?" 

"What's going on?" 

"The Light Dance Festival." 

"May I and my brother join?" 

"Your brother?"   
  
Link skidded to a halt beside her, breathlessly, "That would be me," 

The demeanor of the guards changed completely. 

"D-dark!" one of them stuttered. 

The shock disappeared, replaced by a mask of cold fury. A spear flashed out, smashing into Link's stomach, knocking him down, and expelling out any oxygen he might have had inside of him. 

The gates slammed shut, and Link got up, panting, and started slamming his fists against it. 

"Hey! Let us in!" 

The sun disappeared, the moon replaced it, and Link began to get more frantic. 

"Come on! Please! We're just travelers!" 

A howl pierced through the air. 

It was night. 

The ground underneath them rumbled. 

Bone marrow, glittering in the moonlight, surfaced. It seemed to grow out from the floor itself, connecting to others, forming a skeleton. All around them, the action repeated. 

"Stalchildren," Link spluttered, eyes wide and glassy in terror. 

The action attracted their attention, well, a few of them, anyway. 

Empty eye sockets met his shaky blues.   
Bones rattled as the skeleton advanced towards him.   
His terror held him in place.   
The stalchildren were through staring, it seemed, for a group of them were now lumbering towards Link, hands outstretched.   
Something cold and hard closed down on his arm, yanking down to the grass.   
He was barely aware of his sister's scream of:  
  
"LINK!" 

As clawed hands curled around his throat.   
  
Motion returned to Link in a blur, as he thrashed around.   
  
"Saria!" he yelled into the darkness, but his voice was muffled. 

The blood pounded in his head, and his hands flashed out, trying to detach himself from the mess of bones. His hit struck true, smashing through a few of the joints, and stinging from the impact.  
  
He felt something flat press down on his windpipe. And he wheezed, trying to gather in oxygen.  
  
There was a sound of ripping, and the sensation of something digging into the flesh of his back.  
  
He screamed in pure agony, as he felt the claws run down the length of his spinal cord cruelly.  
  
Tears of pain sprang to his eyes, as the Stalchildren all leapt upon him, in a sort of dogpile, all wanting to kill him first.  
  
Gasping for air, Link groped around for something to steady himself with. The Hylian's vision blurred, as pain exploded inside of his head.  
  
  
To be continued.


	2. The Prisoner and the Fugitive

Disclaimer: I own nothing bla bla bla.  
Terrible sorry for the lateness, I've been busy. And, oh, how cute, I got a deaththreat. ^.^  
  
Mirror Image; Chapter 2  
The Prisoner and the Fugitive  
  
Darkness.  
  
Pain.  
  
Hum.  
  
Soft.  
  
Four sensations came to Link at once. His body was stinging in several places. Warm, feminine fingers traces across his forehead, then they withdrew. He let out a small moan, separating his eyelids. Light flooded them. He closed them. Something cold and wet pressed against his face, dabbling at cuts.  
  
Strength surged through him, and he grasped at what was under him.  
  
Sheets.  
  
He was in a bed.  
  
But how?!  
  
He chanced opening his eyes. Sunlight glared at him, but he endured it until they got used to it. There was someone else in the room. A female, and she was unaware of his presence, dabbing the cloth in a pail of fresh water. Grimy red hair, which would have been beautiful, if it had been better cared for, cascaded down her back. She was wearing a ragged dress, and was barefoot. He felt sorry for her.  
  
"Hi," he croaked. She shrieked loudly, and the cloth plopped against the ground.  
  
"Sorry," he added. As she sent him a frightened glance, bending down to retrieve the fallen rag.  
  
"How do you feel?" she murmured, intimidated.  
  
"It hurts," he grunted, trying to sit up. Why was she afraid of him?  
  
She gave a little gasp.  
  
"No, don't!"  
  
He glanced down the loose tunic that clad him, and noted the massive gash down his back., which was neatly bandaged up.  
  
"That might be it," he noted, flinching as the pain lanced through him.  
  
"Don't move."  
  
She returned to him, rubbing the cloth against his forehead.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
She seemed startled at the question.  
  
"M-Malon."  
  
"Malon," he digested that, "My name's Link, pleased to meet you."  
  
Her green eyes betrayed disbelief, but she said nothing.  
  
Recollection flowed back to him.  
  
"The stalchlidren…"  
  
"We saved you," she said quickly.  
  
"My sister!" he tried to get up, but his torso protested.  
  
"She's here."  
  
She was trembling.  
  
He raised his hand, but she shrank away.  
  
"I won't hurt you," he murmured gently.  
  
She gave him a questioning look.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"I told you, I'm Link."  
  
She opened her mouth to say something, but an another voice cut her off.  
  
"Malon! Come here, you little wench!"  
  
Link winced on her behalf. The girl whirled around and eyed him, looking like a trapped animal. Then, she scampered out of the room.  
  
Link felt his back gingerly.  
  
"That's going to leave a scar."  
  
"Malon!" bellowed Ingo, again.  
  
She stumbled to him, past the other members of the room, who stood stiffly.  
  
She skidded to a half in front of him, and he glared down at her, past his bushy moustache.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?! You're supposed to be cooking! How do you think Dark will react if he sees us slacking off?!"  
  
His voice vibrated around the little room. She stared at him blankly, but said nothing.  
  
"Are you even listening to me, you little whore?!"  
  
That man was not Dark. She knew that. Dark's eyes were not brown. They were not so soft, so gentle… He was never kind. The boy had not even recognized her.  
  
"He's awake," she replied softly, "He was in pain. I was tending to his wounds."  
  
"And flirting, I suppose," he growled.  
  
She barely contained the look of utter venom, and he slapped her heard across the face.  
  
"Let's not forget who feeds you, and clothes you, gives you a house to live in, wench!" roared the irate man, "NOT GET TO WORK!"  
  
She scurried off, pressing a hand to her aching cheek, trying very hard not to cry.  
  
"You bastard," she hissed under her breath, "I swear to the Goddesses, you will pay!"  
  
Saria, who was in better shape than her brother, and a lot more restless, barged out of her room, and bounded across the ranch, finally reaching Link.  
  
"Link!" she cried upon seeing him, leaping towards him.  
  
He raised his arms to defend himself, and she suddenly remembered the ordeal, skidding to a halt beside him.  
  
He sighed in relief.  
  
"Link? Are you okay?" she asked tentatively, big eyes focused on him.  
  
"I'll live," he muttered, touching her hair softly, "How are you?"  
  
"I'm… fine… Link, doesn't this all seem fishy to you?"  
  
He inclined his head slightly, glancing at her inquisitively.  
  
"These people… don't seem very friendly… Yet, they've saved us, and they're treating us like we're royalty."  
  
"The girl… she's afraid of me."  
  
"Keep up the act, brother. We'll figure out what to do."  
  
There was a risk known on the door.  
  
"Come in," answered Link.  
  
Ingo entered, hands clasped behind his back respectively.  
  
"Milord," he greeted.  
  
"Hello," responded the Hylian, trying to keep his voice flippant, and disinterested, "And you are?"  
  
"Ingo of Lon Lon Ranch."  
  
"Ah yes."  
  
"We found you, Milord… the stalchildren attacked you."  
  
"Yes," sniffed Link, "I was outnumbered. Thank you for your services."  
  
Ingo grinned beneath his bushy moustache.  
  
"And I trust I will be… rewarded?"  
  
His slanted eyes gleamed greedily.  
  
"Handsomely," returned Link, inwardly congratulating himself on his act.  
  
"Malon will attend to you until you are better, Sir Dark."  
  
Link opened his mouth to correct him, but Saria elbowed him viciously. He winced.  
  
"You are in pain!" yelped Ingo, "I will call Malon at once! And send news of you to your troupe."  
  
Before Link could protest, he had left, yelling at Malon to come.  
  
The two siblings exchanged dark looks.  
  
This was not good.  
  
Malon arrived, with a slight limp.  
  
"Malon," the Hylian's tone was grave, "We need your help."  
  
"But-"  
  
Link shushed her, and she closed the door.  
  
"I'm not Dark," whispered Link, tone pleading.  
  
"I know," the ranch girl breathed, "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Link… I'm a traveler."  
  
"Were did you come from?"  
  
" Kakariko. I was born and raised there."  
  
She studied him, and the fear vanished.  
  
"It's peculiar…"  
  
"What is?"  
  
"You look so much like him.."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Dark?"  
  
"Who's Dark?"  
  
She shivered as he said the name.  
  
"A very bad man," her tone was flat, "He's a known and feared assassin across the land. He use to be with Ganondorf."  
  
Link had heard tales of Ganondorf, the King of Thieves, the reincarnation and puppet of the ancient evil, Ganon, when he had been a child.  
  
"Ganondorf?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I get it now," Saria piped up, "That's thy the guards threw you out."  
  
"And Ingo?"  
  
"One of Ganondorf's former servants," replied the redheaded girl quietly.  
  
Link placed a hand over her, delicate, milky one.  
  
"I'll set you free, I promise," he whispered.  
  
'The ranch," continued Malon, "Use to belong to me father… he couldn't pay the taxes… and so they kicked him out… took it from him, and me…"  
  
"I promise," repeated Link, his brown eyes earnest.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
*  
  
"Carrier pigeon," murmured Mouse, flicking the dirty blonde hair away from her face. It had been a while since she had gotten mail… Perhaps… perhaps- no. It was not for her. It was for Dark. Who would send her mail, anyway?  
  
She cooed.  
  
The pigeon recognized her, and swept down, landing on her outstretched arm, and began pecking at it. With nimble fingers, she extracted the rolled up piece of parchment, undid the strip, and opened it.  
  
"Dear Mouse,  
  
Your leader was ambushed and overwhelmed by stalchildren. Luckily, I found him. He is at Lon Lon Ranch, being taken care of. He is healing quickly. Gather your troupe and come.  
  
Ingo  
  
PS: I would appreciate payment for my services."  
  
She glanced at it, puzzled, then shook her head.  
  
"What do you have there, Mouse?"  
  
She turned slightly, only to find Dark, dismounting his horse.  
  
She handed the letter to him, and as he read it, she saw his cruel red eyes flash with mirth.  
  
"Mouse," smirked Dark, "Give me a parchment and ink."  
  
Three days passed.  
  
Ingo had not been lying. With Malon's gentle care and Link's strength, he was recovering speedily. He did have a nasty scar across his back, however.  
  
Malon grew bolder when she was with him. They made plans of escape. Everything was going quiet well…  
The next day, however, knew there was going to be going to be trouble- she saw Mouse's pet hawk, Zero, streaking towards them, something attached to his leg.  
  
"We have to go!"  
  
Link glanced in her direction, startled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mouse's hawk is coming with a letter. They'll know you're an imposter."  
  
The urgency of the situation seemed to reach him.  
  
"I'll get Saria."  
  
"I'll go spy on them… then we have to go."  
  
She disappeared out the door and was gone, her breath coming in sharply. She skidded to a halt near the doorway, trying to calm her racing heart. She pressed her ear against the door, faintly hearing reading on the other side.  
  
"…you, Ingo, are an imbecile. I am right here, all safe. You have harbored an imposter. However, this has attracted my attention. We're on our way now to deal with you, and this imposter personally.  
  
Dark.  
  
PS: Zero ate your pigeon."  
  
Ingo let out a roar of fury.  
  
Malon, terrified, turned and fled.  
  
Dark was coming! They had to run!  
  
Her bare feet slapped against the wooden floors as she raced down them. She could hear Ingo and his men coming, and their heavy, thumping footsteps.  
  
She threw the door wide open.  
  
"Link, Saria, Dark is coming! We have to run!"  
  
Saria opened her mouth to protest; or ask a question, but Link snatched her up, and ran.  
  
"Follow me," breathed Malon.  
  
They did so, to the basement. It was a small, messy and ridden with cows. The red-head grunted, pushed a crate aside, and then hopped in the space between, motioning for them to follow.  
  
"There's a passage," she informed them, "We have to crawl."  
  
She got down on her hands and knees, pushing through the tunnel.  
  
Saria followed suit, small enough to manage without difficulty, and Link brought up the rear, and he practically had to shove himself the whole way through.  
The passage smelt of soil and rotten compost. Link wrinkled his nose and did his best to ignore it.  
It was hot in stuffy in the little tunnel, and Link's sides ached from scraping against the walls. He quelled his emotions and took the pain like a man, eyes hard with determination and he watched the light of outside grow larger and closer.  
  
Finally, Malon emerged at the end, standing up. She gazed around shortly, and then headed towards the center. The siblings bounded aft her.  
  
Malon whistled sharply.  
  
There was a neigh from the right, and a chestnut coloured horse trotted forward, saddled up and ready.  
  
"You were just waiting for this, weren't you?"  
  
She ignored him, and hoisted herself up.  
  
"C'mon."  
  
Link raised Saria up, whom Malon helped on, then leapt on himself.  
  
The horse nearly bucked at the added weight, but Malon stroked its mane, murmuring calming words.  
  
"It's okay, Epona…" to the outsiders, she added, "She doesn't like strangers much."  
  
She seemed to be comforted by that.  
  
"She's beautiful," whispered Saria, running a hand across the smooth side.  
  
"Let's go," said the ranch girl curtly, and Epona began to trot, speeding up.  
  
"Malon!"  
  
She cast a glanced at the entrance, then suddenly gasped, feeling as though her body had been grabbed and squeezed by a giant hand.  
  
"What is it?  
  
Her frightened eyes locked on the silhouettes of a group. At the head, mounted upon a massive steed, was a man, clad in back and silver armour, with cold, cruel eyes of crimson.  
  
"They're here!" she squeaked, fear enveloping her.  
  
To be continued…  
  
I'm so sorry for the wait…  
And now, a few notes.  
This is not a Malink fic. Sorry, Malink fans…  
And… that stuff about Ganon, for the purpose of this fic, Ganondorf was a puppet of Ganon, who was an ancient evil, sealed away, bla bla bla, but not permanently, and kind of possessed Ganondorf… and stuff. I'll figure out more later.  
Mouse is my first Zelda fancharacter… hopefully you guys found her alright.  
Until next time, (im)patient readers; and hopefully the next installment won't take me five years. Maybe four and a half ;) 


End file.
